


Justice Is What You Believe

by aceworthy



Category: Avengers (Comic), Captain America (2011), Captain America (Comics), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Law School, Lawyers, M/M, Suits, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceworthy/pseuds/aceworthy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers and James Barnes are partners at one of America’s most prestigious law firms. But when a case goes sour and the evidence points to James taking bribes, will Steve fight for his friend’s innocence or let him take the fall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, Captain America, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or any of its characters. Everything belongs to Marvel.
> 
> First of all, I'd like to thank _hillbillyjones.tumblr.com_ for the idea of the prompt.
> 
> I would like to give a very special shoutout to _jg_fan_24_250.livejournal.com_ for the time to help me through this prompt. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
> 
> As of now, this prompt is incomplete. Future chapters will be added to finish the prompt. I hope you enjoy!

“Rogers and Barnes”, in black serif letters, center the translucent window of the mahogany door. “C. Phillips firm – attorney at law” is printed, almost with emphasis, underneath the names as if proudly bragging the ownership of these two young, bright attorneys.

The C. Phillips firm is the most prestigious law firm in the country. In fact, prestigious doesn’t even begin to do justice to the firm’s highly decorated, distinguished, and reputable status. Only the top graduate from each law educational facility receives the opportunity of admission; and even then, the selection process is careful and meticulous. For that reason, it is notoriously known for achieving the highest win ratio in court from these excruciatingly selected attorneys. Nothing less than success. That’s the C. Phillips firm’s guarantee.

Every year, only the brightest of the bright, the smartest of the smart, and the best of the best is selected for admission. Until one man convinced the firm to select a team of two graduates.

Steve Rogers: self-motivated, passionate, a leader. If implicit qualities have weight of merit on their file, Steve’s file would have broken the floor bearings of the selection conference room and left an imprint on the concrete foundation.

Steve has the natural talent of connecting with people, reaching into their hearts and resonating with their emotions. His words and actions are always gently laced with genuine concern and compassion that drew people to him, forming a bond of understanding and trust no attorney could replicate. 

To contrast his emphatic qualities, Steve is swift in his decisions and firm in his stance, which colors him as an exemplary leader or, one might even say, a captain. 

Even the C. Phillips firm, whose heart had long forgotten the warmth of humanity in the frigid atmosphere of coerced success, felt a twitch in their chest during Steve’s mock trial examination as he poured his arguments into the courtroom. It was something the firm later called it, “a glimmer of hope in the darkest hour of despair”.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes: quick-witted, charming, talker. Barnes is a socialite at his finest or, depending on the recipient, at his worst. No matter the situation, no matter the person, Barnes is able to twist words into facetious retorts to either infuriate or tickle the ear. Always the perfect response. The combination of Barnes’ wit and mouth can either get him into a passionate home or thrown out onto the streets. 

In the courtroom, Bucky has the ear to identify false accusations and testimonies. A skill developed and refined from keen observation of human social behavior, which he learned from his many social encounters. Bucky understood the symptoms of a liar, the uncontrolled body movements and irregular speech patterns.

Once, Bucky single-handedly convicted a witness to murder during cross-examination because he noticed curious, subtle movements in the witness’s facial complexion, along with tones Bucky categorized as suspicious. Much to Steve’s objection, Bucky decided to take a different route with the witness than planned. It didn’t take long for Bucky to press the witness into a trap, where the witness accidently convicted himself to murder. Bucky wouldn’t let Steve hear the end of that. 

However, more often than not, Steve would close cases through his clear, logical arguments by using his speech to grasp the hearts of the jury. Bucky respects that. He respects Steve even more by his incapability of displaying compassion under false pretenses, in addition to being completely unaware of his shining talent.

Bucky often watches Steve in amazement as he echoes through the courtroom, connecting person to person with an invisible string of justice. Sometimes, he would catch himself dazed, wiping the grin before anyone else could see. 

When James “Bucky” Barnes closed cases, he would constantly rub it in Steve’s nose, to which Steve would roll his eyes and brush it off. That’s because Steve doesn’t have to wait very long before he would close the next case, ending Barnes single winning streak, as well as his running mouth. 

Whenever Steve Rogers tried to payback the same gratuitous gesture, Bucky would greet his winning streak with a sarcastic tongue. “Oh yeah? Who was it again that got you the testimony we needed?” Bucky would say. “Oh little Stevey, what would you do without me?” Steve would match his sarcasm by reluctantly admitting his relevancy to the success of the case, to which Bucky would retort, “Punk”, and Steve would mutter, “Jerk”. 

With that, the two of them would resume their work, grinning from cheek to cheek behind papers, coffee mugs, or turning their backs all together to hide their affection.

Before their employment at the C. Phillips firm, Steve and Bucky struggled through the vigorous program at law school. Vigorous, malicious, and gruesome. Yet, Steve somehow managed to perform admirably, despite the pressure and stress. Bucky attributed Steve’s brilliance to his resolute determination to obtain an outstanding academic record, the highest degree in order to help as many people as possible. Bucky admired that about Steve, his inner desire for justice. As a result, Bucky would match Steve’s brilliance, creating a healthy, spirited competition between the two aspiring attorneys.

The program required periodic mock trial examinations as an assessment tool to gauge the growth of their students. For each mock trial examination, a scenario was detailedly outlined in a heavy stack of stapled papers, which the school passed out to each student. The thick packet contained a fabricated situation with testimonies, backgrounds, statements, personality traits, medical records, criminal records, financial records, military records, all sorts of incredibly detailed aspects of the parties involved. 

The packet was designed to overwhelm the students with copious amounts of information. The students’ job was to select the appropriate information to support and defend their claim. In the concocted cases, there was enough material to support both sides of the prosecution and defense. However, the objective was to provide the better, the more compelling argument, based on the information provided in their packets. That side won the case.

The prosecution and defense was composed of two students. Steve and Bucky worked together as a solid team to pass through their examinations. The pair complimented the other like two sides of a coin. Steve was book smart. He busied himself in absorbing their law book word-for-word, retaining the majority of the know-hows in law and court. This knowledge became extremely useful as Steve could whip out clauses, unheard of by the opposing team, to prevent their objectionable arguments and win the mock trial exam. 

Bucky suffered in that department. He was frustrated with the absurd amount of clauses he was required to retain. Half of the reason was because Bucky couldn’t force himself to sit and read. The other half was because he would occasionally slip out to the local bars for relief. But, Steve was always there to help Bucky with retaining clauses, as Bucky referred to Steve as the clause machine.

However, where Bucky lacked, he excelled in another way. Bucky was street smart. In preparation for mock trial exams, Bucky had an eye and intuition to see the relevancy of distinct entities, connecting two irreverent points and establishing a connected relationship. As Bucky flipped through the enormous packet, he would draw comparisons, construct profiles, weigh evidence, and piece them together like a puzzle. Bucky could see through the information, understanding the links between the scattered pieces. 

Bucky gathered the relevant information; as a team, Steve and Bucky ironed out their arguments; and, Steve effectively delivered their case, using the clauses to their advantage.

The book smart and street smart routine made up where the other lacked, so much so that the two acquired the name as the “dynamic duo”. A pair that brought shivers down the prosecution’s neck just by reading the names of the defense for the mock trial exam.

During the last year, students were required to represent real clients as their final examination. Through the school’s recognized program, students were capable of representing clients by the last year of their vigorous education. The program assigned a case to a pair of teams to represent the plaintiff and the defendant. The case was filed to the school by the affected parties, accepting their case to be used as an exam for students in exchange for representation at a reduced price.

Because of the reality and severity of the case, each team was given the entire semester to handle their disposition, during which each team acquired evidence, testimonies, and witnesses on their own accord, composing their own packet of information.

The audience of the mock courtroom was split into two groups. One side was open to the public on a first come first serve basis. The other was reserved for high positioned individuals as a member of a board, committee, or department in the country.

Head of law firms, governmental officials, and corporate companies attended the examination to observe the skills of the graduating attorneys. These sessions were perfect opportunities to seek out talented attorneys. Thus, during the examination, these highly decorated individuals would note certain students, who impressed them, for reference. 

Among them was the C. Phillips firm. Every team desired to impress this particular firm as it had the reputable status of prestige and wealth. Throughout each examination trial, each member of the team demonstrated their abilities to elevate their name, hoping the firm would recognize it when considering applications. 

Steve and Bucky preformed valiantly, displaying each of their talents to the audience. Bucky cleverly pressed witnesses during cross-examination to further their case and discredit the opposition, while Steve captured the court from his opening statement to his well-construed closing statement, thundering his words passionately. The jury returned from their discussion. The final verdict decided.

Steve and Bucky won the case.

Graduation was one of the major high points in Steve’s life. The ceremony was long and the speech obvious, but the anticipation of receiving his diploma filled Steve with anxiety and exhilaration. But, none could compare to his uncontainable satisfaction and thrill of having Bucky by his side. The two had always stuck together, from fighting bullies together, sharing an apartment together, joining law school together, fighting mock trials together, to finally graduating together.

“Steve Rogers”. Steve walked nervously to the stage, accepted the handed diploma, and quickly returned to his seat. “James Buchanan Barnes”. Bucky swaggered to the stage, accepted his diploma, and strutted to his seat, savoring the moments of each stride.

After graduation, Bucky dragged Steve to their local bar. The two official attorneys celebrated their monumental achievement with rounds of cheap beer. Flustered with alcohol, Steve continued to drink, much to Bucky’s insistence, making up all the time he denied himself during his studies.

As the night progressed into the later hours, Steve thought Bucky wanted to celebrate his night with a special lady. Steve pointed to a flock of ladies, chatting amongst themselves in the corner of the bustling bar. “Nah,” Bucky said. “Today is special. I’m spending my night with you.” Steve nudged him on the arm with his own, pushing him harder than expected, grinning in his mug. The two young men laughed and laughed throughout the night, enjoying the other’s company, as they drowned themselves with a never ending supply of beer and banter.

The next morning, Steve woke up in his bed, half-naked with a shirt tied around his head. His pants were missing, revealing his tight shorts, and covered in flour from head to toe. Specs of powder dropped from his disheveled hair as his charcoaled hands ran through his head. Bucky was collapsed next to him, almost falling off of the bed, with black dust smudged across his face, neck, arms, and naked chest. His pants were also missing, revealing his boxer shorts, and Steve’s name charcoaled illegibly all over Bucky’s calves and thighs. Steve looked around at the scattered empty bottles and blotches of white and black powder surrounding the bed, leading out into the hallway. 

Steve tried to remember the events of the night before, but the entire fiasco was a blur. “What a night that must have been,” Steve said as he walked into the kitchen for a remedy to his pounding head.

After graduation and the forgotten celebration, Steve and Bucky applied to the C. Phillips firm. Steve figured he can use the firm’s well-known status to reach out to as many people as possible. Once they submitted their applications, they waited, hoping for the best.

As the C. Phillips firm vigorously flipped through the piling candidates, carelessly throwing files in an already filled trash can, the firm stopped twice. Steve Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes.

A hard decision. 

Steve possessed a unique quality of mysterious genuineness, whereas Bucky possessed the quality of a clever tongue, which was one of the cornerstone qualities of the C. Phillips firm. Through a tireless debate, the firm finally decided on Steve Rogers due to his excellent academic mindset and self-motivation to excel. 

Steve remembers that day as if it happened yesterday.


	2. Chapter 2

He is cleaning the dishes from his home prepared dinner in the small, crowded, and run-down apartment, in what the landowner passes as an apartment anyway. The loud train rattles the foundation of the apartment and the noise vibrates the halls like an earthquake. Pieces of charcoal jump around the canvas and drop onto the floor. 

Steve notices a note, left by Bucky, on the overused refrigerator door. 

“Out to Clyde’s. Hopefully won’t be back till morning. Wish me luck. :)” 

Steve smirks at the note, imagining a sad, pouting Bucky kicked out onto the curb instead. Steve has always warned Bucky about his uncontrollable mouth around the bar scene, even more so when Steve is not around to rein it in. Bucky would have asked Steve to join, but today Steve would rather stay at home to work with his charcoals.

His attention diverts to the extremely loud traditional telephone ring. Steve scampers to the telephone, making sure to avoid colliding into anything. 

“Hello?” Steve says curiously. 

“Yes, hello.” A voice replies in a low, growly tone. “Is this Mr. Steve Rogers?”

“Yes, this is he. May I ask who is calling?”

“My name is Chester Phillips, head of C. Phillips firm.” Steve raises his brow in excitement and widens his eyes with anticipation. “I looked over your admission and I would like to personally speak with you. Can you arrive at the firm 10:00AM tomorrow?” Phillips replies in the same grumbling tone.

Steve quickly agrees and scribbles down the time and address onto the yellow notepad next to the old telephone. As Steve hangs up the phone, he turns his back and leans against the counter. He closes his eyes and huffs a sigh, trying to calm the turbulence of his emotions. Instead, he laughs in disbelief; the hallways carrying his incredulous voice throughout the rooms of the apartment. He shakes his head in relief and excitement as meeting with the firm usually meant immediate employment. 

His smile slowly drops into a frown as he ponders what this meant for Bucky. He turns his head to the refrigerator door, picks the note off the supporting magnets, and holds it in his hand. After a long gaze, he places it back onto the refrigerator door and heads to the easel.

The next morning, Steve enters the firm’s finely polished door and asks the receptionist for Mr. Chester Phillips’ office. As Steve walks down the long hallway, he is amazed to see the glass décor contrasting with the detailed woodwork on the mahogany walls and the doors of each attorney’s office. 

At the end of the hallway, Steve knocks three times before a, “Come in,” muffles through the dense wood. Steve opens the door confidently and Phillips gestures for Steve to take a seat. Steve sits on one of the two slightly angled chairs in front of the expensive office desk and places his hands on his lap.

“Steve Rogers. Chester Phillips.” Phillips brings his hand over the desk to shake Steve’s hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

“Yes, as am I.” 

Phillips breathes a long breath and lifts Steve’s file from the top of the neatly piled papers on the corner of his desk. 

“You have quite the reputation, Mr. Rogers. I am very impressed, especially since after your mock trial examination.”

“Thank you, Mr. Phillips.” Steve nods appreciatively.

“You show excellent qualities, even with your background. Being raised in that poor community and all.” Phillips says, stressing the wrong words to imply something Steve didn’t particularly appreciate. “Your parents must be proud.”

“They’re both deceased, Mr. Phillips.” Steve says in a light manner and quickly continues, “My father passed away when I was a child and my mother from pneumonia later in my late teens. I’ve lived with a friend of mine ever since and we make ends meet.” Steve finishes in a joking tone to ease the tense atmosphere.

“I’m sorry for your lose. Losing your parents at such a young age must have been very difficult for you. Even with such tragedy, you accomplished so much. You continue to impress me by the minute, Mr. Rogers.” 

Phillips drops the file onto his desk.

“To be frank, I admire your talents and your qualifications are astounding.” Phillips pauses to rustle through his desk and slips out a piece of paper outlined in gold. “I would like you to join my firm. Would you sign this contract? Just one signature and you’re done.” 

Phillips passes the paper to Steve. 

Steve glances down at the paper. His eyes travel from the endless block of letters down to the black line labeled “signature”. 

Steve glances up. 

“If I may, Mr. Phillips, what did you think about the other candidates?” Steve pauses briefly. “More specifically, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I’m not here to discuss any other candidates.” Phillips responds quickly in a commanding voice.

“And, I’m not here to blindly accept what I’ve been given.” Steve replies just as quickly and firmly. 

Phillips laughs an incredulous laugh. “Any other man would have signed that contract before I finished my sentence.” Phillip calms himself and adds, “A wise man knows worth when he sees one.”

“With all due respect, sir.” Steve says cautiously as he stares into Phillips’ eyes. “This is just a piece of paper. A name is worth more than this. And, I’d like to know the worth of James Buchanan Barnes.”

Phillips smiles pleasantly as if pleased with Steve’s response. He folds his hands in the air as his elbows rested on the arms of the chair.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” Phillips emphasizes slowly as if trying to recollect his thoughts. “Your partner in handling the mock trial examination, yes?” 

Steve nods. 

“It was really between you or Mr. Barnes.” Phillips says overtly. “Both of you displayed exemplary qualities in quite the opposite direction. To be honest, it was a tough decision.” 

Phillips pauses and stares at Steve for a couple of seconds as if to analyze the expression on his face. 

“In the end, we decided to select you for your focused mindset. Your determination to excel. Nothing to sidetrack you from your goal.”

Steve cocks his head slightly to the side in confusion with his brow buried into his forehead. Phillips brings his folded hands down onto the desk.

“Mr. Barnes isn’t as–” Phillips waves his hand in the air, trying to find the correct term. “ _single-minded_ on his career as you, Mr. Rogers. Our investigation led us to Mr. Barnes frequent attendance to local bars than focusing on the material during your educational career.”

Steve displays a mix of bewilderment and surprise, during which he says in a controlled tone, “How do you know about that?”

“Colleagues. Professors. Employees at Clyde’s.” Phillips states casually as if it is everyday custom to pervasively initiate background checks. “We are very thorough.”

“Look.” Steve declares firmly, placing a hand on Phillips’ desk. Phillips’ eyes drop down to the hand rested on the expensive wood. 

“Yes, Barnes overly enjoys life in all of its aspects.” Steve admits. Phillips returns his gaze back to Steve. “But, it shouldn’t have anything to do with his ability to operate in court. He is one of the most reliable and capable man I know. He can extract statements from witnesses and connect them like no other. You would not believe at some of the things he is able to do in court. Whenever I handle a case, he is the first thing I check I have with me before entering the courtroom.”

Steve realizes the bounds he crossed with the head of the all-powerful firm. However, when it comes to Bucky, nothing is short of crossing bounds and Steve continues to remain steadfast in his stance. He removes his hand from Phillips’ desk, transitioning his gaze from defensive to understanding.

Surprised and amused, Phillips raises his eyebrows and brings his hands back to his face with a smile.

“Well, Mr. Rogers. It would seem you are vouching for your friend. Are you implying of handing your contract to Mr. Barnes?” Phillips waits in anticipation to hear Steve’s response.

Steve looks down at his hands rested on his lap, imagining the note.

“No. I offer you a counter deal instead.” This time, Phillips cocks his head to the side in curiosity. Steve firmly, yet calmly, continues, “Hire me and Barnes. As a team. And, I promise you, you will close more cases and take on more clients than your office can handle.”

“We already close more cases than you can possibly know. Our win ratio is already the highest in the city. From a financial standpoint, our clients are willing to pay us generously for representation on their case. But, having the two of you, sharing a client, isn’t a benefit for me.” Phillips shakes his head, slightly disappointed. “This is no incentive, Mr. Rogers”

“But, you see. That’s the thing.” Steve leans forward as if selling a sales pitch. “Your firm caters to those who are part of the highest wealth percentage of the city’s population. What do you think will happen to your firm’s reputation if you can address all of the city’s population?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers, but all of the city’s population cannot afford my firm’s services. There’s a certain,” Phillips says apathetically, “price to be paid.” 

“My deal is this. Barnes and I as a team,” Steve repeats. “But, with a pay cut in order to represent potential clients who make up the backbone of the city. There is an untapped market out there for those who need your successful representation but without the sufficient funds.”

Phillips brings one hand to his face and rubs his chin, thinking about the possibilities of Steve’s counter deal.

“Think about it.” Steve raises his hand, printing a headline in the air. “C. Phillips Firm Voted Number One By Citizens Of The City.” Steve drops his hand and continues, “First of all, your firm’s name will spread even further, expanding your reach to monopolize on the hard working population throughout the entire city.”

“And you’re helping people who can’t help themselves.” Steve says empathically, unconsciously switching his voice to one of compassion and concern. “People who suffer in the hands of injustice from poor representation. People who pay ridiculous fines with money they don’t have and even go to jail, away from their family and friends. You can help these ones, Mr. Phillips. And I can assure you, you will be known for more than your service. You will be a man who reunites families, who protects the unprotected, and who represents all men in the impartial name of justice.”

“Not only will that tarnish the name I developed for this firm, but it will mark the beginning for firms to cater to the people. No, the people,” Phillip pauses, “cater to the firm.” Phillips leans forward and masks his face with an artificial smile. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers, but I think I heard enough out of you for one day. Please see yourself out the door and have a nice afternoon.” Phillips swivels his chair to point the back of the head rest at Steve’s stunned countenance.

Steve excuses himself respectively out of the room, shakes off his nerves down the hallway, thanks the receptionist, and drags his disappointment to the bus station to head home.


	3. Chapter 3

Instead of going straight to his apartment, Steve decides to take a detour. After many stops, he gets off of the bus at a reminiscent station. Brooklyn. His hometown. 

Steve walks down the street, watching the scenery transition from the well-maintained downtown area to the fragile, pathetic outskirts of the city. As Steve passes the alleyways in between the shaggy stores, he recalls the good times and the not so good times, but laughs all the same. How he would constantly find himself in a fight, battling a man three sizes bigger than his frail body, or how he would never back down from the bullies that plagued the neighborhood. As a result, Steve would, more often than not, come home to Bucky with fresh wounds in need of immediate attention.

As Steve cruises slowly around his neighborhood, he remembers how Bucky would always have the same speech of how he needed to be careful or how he would someday end up in the morgue or how, when that day came, he would somehow bring little Steve back from the dead just to knock some sense into that little punk.

Ever since then, Bucky followed Steve around, fending off bullies whenever Steve couldn’t keep his sense of justice to himself. By the end of the day, the both of them would come home wounded, battered, and tired. 

“Worth it,” Bucky would mutter to Steve as he casually nudged his arm. The two of them would laugh and laugh in each other’s company until meeting with the rubbing alcohol.

“One day,” Steve always told Bucky. “One day we will change the system and help those who can’t help themselves. To be there for those who are helpless against the bigger guy. To be there for those who are less fortunate. To be there to take down the bullies. One day.”

Bucky admired Steve’s ambitions and dreams of a better world. A monstrous obstacle for such a frail boy. But, if anyone can do it, Bucky thought, Steve can.

“Until then,” Bucky would jab at Steve. “You need to work on building that body of yours so you can fend off evil incarnate when that time comes around.”

Through Bucky’s tireless efforts, he finally convinced Steve to start building muscles with him during his own personal muscle building sessions. 

After hard work and many passed out afternoons, Steve had been blessed with an incredible body. Muscles tore at the hems of his shirt, defining each muscle of the body with ease. 

Tall. Blond. Muscular. Blue eyes. His masculine form amazed onlookers. The delicate features of Steve’s face balanced the rigid mass of his body. Instead of staring into an intimidating giant, it was more like staring into the son of Zeus. 

Steve became a man of undefined beauty women would turn their heads to stare at. He would often blush and shy away from their love gaze, to which Bucky would intervene and ruin the moment. With the moment gone, a neatly folded paper would enter into Steve’s shirt pocket as the sound of heels against the pavement fade away. 

“I’m invisible. I’m-I’m turning into you. This is a horrible dream.” Bucky said semi-jokingly.

“Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she’s got a friend.” Steve joked back.

Even though Steve and Bucky trained the same way, Steve had outgrown his feeble body into a colossus faster and bigger than Bucky thought humanly possible. At one point, Bucky thought Steve had been infected with some sort of radiation or encountered a paranormal force and demanded Steve to see a doctor right away. 

The doctors were amazed to see the extent of muscular growth. However, the man dressed in white couldn’t identify any abnormal affliction. He simply accredited Steve for his miraculous genes, which seemed to activate post adolescence.

After relieving Bucky’s contamination and extraterrestrial theories, Bucky shamelessly declared how proud he was of his little Stevey, having his appearance match to what he already knew existed on the inside.

One step for justice, Bucky told Steve, raising his arm around Steve’s neck. 

The second was joining law school.

Steve smiles as his fondest memories flow into his heart like a gentle stream. The fiery sunset casts shadows onto the dirty pavement of the neighborhood as the last remaining light peeks through the buildings. Steve looks out toward the sunset and remembers one last memory. 

Him and Bucky at Coney Island, sharing an ice cream cone on the harbor, listening to the lazy sea crashing against the planks. Colors of purple, pink, yellow, orange, and red melt from the sky and drain into the sea. He looks up at Bucky when the breeze hits his face, watching the hair dance in the wind. Bucky looks down, smiles, and kisses him on the head. Steve smiles ecstatically at Bucky’s affectionate face as they both turn their heads back to the horizon to enjoy the fiery sunset settle behind the curtains of the ocean.

A memory forever locked in Steve’s heart. 

Steve continues to look out toward the fading sunset and smiles just as he had when Bucky was with him all those years ago. As night befalls the town, he finally decides to head back to the station to go home. To go back to Bucky.


	4. Chapter 4

On the fifth floor of his apartment building, Steve walks to his apartment at the end of the hallway. Chirping crickets fill the lifeless hall through the open window at the end of the corridor. Walking down the hallway reminds him about the events at the firm, thoughts and emotions he dismisses quickly before Bucky could fish them out. At the last door, next to the window, Steve enters the key into the lock and opens the pale wooden door.

In the distance, he hears the television. Steve enters the kitchen, drops the house key into the bowl, and pokes his head into the living room to see if Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch. Steve sees a head rested on the top of the backboard from behind the colorfully, patched sofa. 

“Alright, you.” Bucky says without turning his head. “Where have you been all day?”

“Oh, you’re awake.” Steve replies sleepily. “I thought you were sleeping.” Steve pauses for a moment and changes the subject. “Hey. I didn’t see you this morning. How was your _night?_ ” Steve smirks as he leans against the wall dividing the kitchen from the living room. 

“As a matter of fact, it was very lovely. A dame of top class, I tell you. Top class.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. Bucky points his finger behind his head at Steve. 

“Don’t change the subject, Steve Rogers.” 

Bucky sets the cereal bowl from his hands onto the wobbly coffee table, turns off the television, and twists his upper body to face Steve, setting his arm over the back of the couch. Bucky grins. 

“Look at you, all dressed up. You’re even wearing the tie I gave you as a graduation present.” 

After eyeing Steve from head to toe a couple of times, Bucky squints his eyes to study Steve’s tired face. 

“Oh no. I know what you’re doing, Bucky. I’ve survived with you in court, remember? I know when you’re trying to get into my head.” Steve walks back into the kitchen and washes his hands in the sink.

“The thing is,” Bucky says slowly and loudly enough to hear over the running water. “With you I never have to look too hard. You’re an easy read, Steve. It’s what I like about you. You don’t have a protective safe to hide things like most people.” 

Bucky picks up his cereal bowl from the table and resumes eating his interrupted dinner.

“So, who was it?” Bucky says finally with Steve’s smirk on his face.

“Who was who?” Steve replies in the kitchen with the faucet still running.

Bucky leans back on the couch and yells across the room. “Are we really gonna play this game or are you gonna tell me who you met up with today?” Bucky takes another spoonful and tips the bowl into his mouth, drinking the remaining milk.

The faucet stops running and Steve walks out of the kitchen. “Alright, alright. You got me.” Steve says in a mocking tone, sinking into the chair in front of the couch Bucky sprawled on. 

“You know, Bucky. One of these days, I swear I’m going to lock you up and throw away the key.” 

“Only if it’s you.” Bucky says and grins as Steve’s lips showed off that homerun smile. “And you in there with me.” 

Bucky laughs at Steve’s response. Red, bashful, and blushing. 

“Shut up.” Steve reaches behind his back and throws a pillow at Bucky’s face. “As if you’ll survive another one of my ‘justice-for-all-mankind speeches’.”

Bucky moves the pillow from his face to his chest with wide eyes. 

“You’re right! Anything but that Steve! I can’t hear another one of your speeches. I’d literally die of overzealous sincerity.” Bucky says in a light and joking tone.

After settling their laughs, silence falls onto the two young men as they stared into the other’s eyes. Steve interrupts the silence.

“I met up with one of girls we met at Clyde’s couple weeks back, remember?” Bucky looks up at the ceiling, trying to place the face to Steve’s mysterious date.

“Red head. Committed. Responsible. Strong minded. Even went to law school like you and I.” Steve tries to delicately jump around the first thing he wants to say. Bucky continues to make noises of trying to remember as he stares at Steve with confusion.

Steve sighs. 

“Kicked you in the shins for calling her a delicate goddess, being gifted in the physical form.” Steve says mockingly, trying his best to imitate Bucky’s voice. Bucky’s face turns into horror from the unpleasant memory.

“Hey! I was trying to forget that! I had a bruise there for weeks.” Bucky yells back and then starts to stare off into distance, daydreamed. “But, that dame sure had some fire in her. And, that perfectly shaped body. What a–”

Steve quickly snaps his fingers and brings Bucky’s attention back at him. 

“Yeah, so I met up with her earlier today and–”

Bucky face lights up in excitement. “And then? And then?” Bucky says, interrupting Steve midsentence.

“And then,” Steve emphasizes, hoping Bucky gets the hint of no more interruptions. “We went to eat at a restaurant.” 

Bucky continues to stare at Steve with enthusiasm.

“Well, in the end,” Steve says reluctantly. “It didn’t really work out. I felt bummed about it. So, I took the bus to Brooklyn to walk it off.” Steve ends his completely made up story with a shrug, well, half-made up story.

“She kicked you in the shins too, huh?” Bucky says half-heartedly.

“Wha-What? No!” Steve replies in a surprised and off-guard voice. “It wasn’t like that. We just didn’t really connect, you know? I asked her out again after our meal and she refused. That’s all that happened.”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky says in an unbelieving tone with a finger on his lips. After a couple of seconds, Bucky continues, “It’s alright. It happens, Steve. Dames don’t know what’s good for them even if it hit them in the face. Don’t worry. One of these days you’ll find that special someone for you.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” Steve says and pats Bucky’ leg twice. He stands up with a yawn and stretches. “Well, I’m really tired today. Long day and all. I’m going to bed.” With his arms still in the air, he adds, “Let’s go out to Clyde’s sometime this week.”

“It’s about time I started rubbing off on you.” Bucky says with a smile. “Yeah, let’s go to Clyde’s tomorrow and find that dame for you.” 

Steve huffs a laugh and starts walking towards his bedroom.

“Night, Steve.” Bucky says as Steve passes the couch.

“Good night, Bucky.” Steve stops to gently squeeze Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky turns the television back on.

Just as Steve enters the hallway into his bedroom, Bucky raises his voice, “Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve replies with just as much volume.

“When we go out tomorrow,” Bucky pauses. “Don’t hit any dames in the face.” 

Steve quietly chuckles to himself as he could practically hear Bucky’s grin. 

“If you promise not to let anyone hit yours.” Steve replies back. 

He stops for a moment. Things were going to be alright. Hadn’t it always been? Just him and Bucky, standing together back-to-back, facing life’s challenges one by one. Who cares if the C. Phillips firm tossed his file in the trash with the rest of the candidates? As long as he had Bucky, he had the world. He’ll just look for a firm that will accept the dynamic duo. Things will be alright.

Steve leaves his thoughts at the door of his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed and drifts off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Birds and crickets, chirping disharmoniously in the early morning, wake Steve from his sleep. His eyes open slowly as he turns to the clock on the mismatched drawer next to the bed. Steve grunts annoyingly and throws his pillow at the wall, hoping to quiet the rambunctious symphony of nature. He grabs a second pillow next to his leg and snuggles into the cool fabric.

The next thing Steve hears is the obnoxious shrill of the telephone ring, violently rattling his head. He covers his ear with the pillow as each ring intrudes through the thin walls of his bedroom. He squeezes the pillow harder, relaxing during the brief pauses between each successive ring. 

Telemarketers, Steve thinks to himself, they’ll eventually give up. The telephone continues to ring stubbornly and, at this point, Steve is amazed at their persistence. He rewards their perseverance with a villainous frown as he buries his head deep under the pillow and bed sheets.

Steve hears a loud, muffled groan grunting from the living room. Annoyed and tired footsteps stomp across the floor. A loud crash followed the clumsy footsteps as Steve realized Bucky must have crashed landed into the table and chairs in the dining room. After faint cursing, the footsteps continue into the kitchen and the ringing finally stops.

“Hello,” Bucky mutters in a quick, dry, and irritated tone.

After all that uninvited noise, Steve is now wide awake. He notices Bucky’s voice change from annoyed to concern. Wondering who is on the phone, Steve rolls onto his side, trying to listen to the conversation from his bed. But, all he can hear are indistinguishable, muffled sounds.

When the conversation ends and the telephone back onto the counter, Bucky rushes into Steve’s bedroom. 

“Steve!” Bucky says excitedly. “You’ll never guess who just called.”

Steve turns his body and finds a half-naked Bucky standing under the frame of his bedroom door. The light of the hallway floods into the dark room, casting dark shadows against the bright light. 

Steve glances at the contrast across Bucky’s chest created by the invading light. The light, hitting against his shoulder, gently reveals the contoured features of his chest as his upper body fades into the shadows of the bedroom. Bucky, with nothing but a red, white and blue boxer shorts hanging dangerously low on the hip, peers over Steve who is lying in bed.

“Joe’s Clothes.” Steve replies. “They want to donate a shirt.” Steve returns his head to the pillow with his back facing Bucky. “Nice boxers by the way.”

Bucky pouts and looks across the room at the lonely pillow lying on the floor. He walks over to pick it up. The next thing Steve feels is the bed rippling vigorously like crashing waves as Bucky plops himself onto Steve’s bed. Moments later, Steve’s head is bombarded with the soft cushion in Bucky’s hand. 

“Okay. Okay. I’m up. I’m up.” Steve surrenders and sits up on his bed, revealing his tight white shirt as his back leans up against the wall. “So, who was it?”

“The C. Phillips firm.” Bucky says with his original excitement. “The receptionist called in for the both of us to come in. I can’t believe it, Steve. It’s really happening, isn’t it? This is amazing!”

Steve drops his mouth speechless.

“I know. I felt the same way. I was barely able to stand during my conservation with that lovely receptionist.” 

Bucky changes his face as if remembering something forgotten. “Speaking of lovely receptionists, she sounds very cute and petite.” Bucky cradles his chin. “Blonde, maybe. No, brunette. Definitely, brunette. I bet she’s as curvy as they come. All receptionists are. Gotta attract the big bad boys of unlawful corporations, am I right? Well, come on Steve, say something.”

A million thoughts race in Steve’s head. He thought the firm wanted nothing to do with him. Is this a game? A bad joke? Or something worse. Why would they want both him and Bucky? It’s too good to be true, isn’t it? There must be a catch somewhere and Steve feels his gut clench. 

“Easy on the lady. Wouldn’t want to screw up our chances now, would we?” is all Steve could bring himself to say.

Bucky mutters something reassuring, but Steve couldn’t hear him over his relentless thoughts pestering what this meant and why. Bucky pats him on the shoulders and walks out of the room.

“Better get dressed, Steve.” Bucky says loudly, making sure Steve could hear him. “They want us to be there by today, you know.”

“I’m not the one who needs the time. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?” Steve yells back, shaking his head amusingly.

“But, this time, I’ve got a head start.” 

With that, Steve pictures Bucky slanting against the door in his red, white, and blue boxer shorts. Steve savors the thought as he imagines the light drifting across his chest, casting shadows underneath his pectorals and along his abdomen. Half of his face trapped in the darkness, whereas the other illuminated his distinct features, revealing the softness of his hazel eye. Such perfect lighting. Such rich contrast. Steve itches for his charcoals. 

Steve forces himself back into reality and labels these feelings as simply the admiration of the male form. He had an eye for these things after all, hadn’t he? He looks back at the door, wondering if Bucky said that on purpose just to mess with him.

He laughs at himself and jumps out of bed. He walks over to the tiny closet, pulls out his neatly hung suit, and gently places the three-piece onto the bed. Next, he tosses the only present he has ever cherished on top of his formal wear.

As Steve reveals the window in his bedroom, the tie glistens in the morning sun as the loose fabric hugs the dark wool of the jacket.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve’s mind is scattered in anticipation and uneasiness. He has no idea what to expect and the anxiety of not knowing nips at his consciousness. The bus creaks to a screeching stop. Steve and Bucky hop inside. As the two walk down the aisle to a row of empty seats, the passengers stare at the two well-dressed men, turning their heads to follow them until the two settle into their seats.

Steve is in a white striped lavender dress shirt topped with a white collar. A silky, complimenting tie drapes from around his neck into the dark grey vest. Steve’s holding his matching dark grey jacket in his hand with his sleeves neatly and carefully folded to just under his elbow.

The white striped lavender dress shirt isn’t Steve’s taste per say. He would rather dress himself in traditional monotone colors: black, white, or grey. However, Bucky convinced Steve he would kill with the dames if he chosen to wear brighter colors instead. 

At Joe’s Clothes, Bucky perused through the selection, making judgments as to what would work with Steve, and tossed him a white striped lavender dress shirt. Steve looked at the bright shirt and back up at Bucky. “Trust me,” Bucky says with a look in his eye. Steve obeyed reluctantly. 

As Steve walked out of the dressing room, Bucky whistled to himself. “Perfect,” he said. “Just perfect. You look great. I think I’m even falling for you.” Steve throws his light grey shirt at Bucky’s face, to which Bucky threw it back at Steve so he could change. “One day you’ll thank me,” Bucky said as Steve walked back into the dressing room.

Next to Steve in his lavender-dress-shirt-vest combo, Bucky is dressed in cooler colors. His dark navy dress shirt is covered by matching black jacket and dress pants, along with a black, silky tie. His hair is gelled upwards and around his head, forming a crease on the other side. 

The two of them sitting next to each other bring the colors to life, with Steve’s vivid hue to Bucky’s darker tint. Their well-dressed and well-fitted attire lights up the boring, dull colors of the bus. Bucky cocks his head at a cute girl staring at the two, while Steve avoids eye contact all together, staring out through the window instead. 

Steve twiddles his thumbs over his laps. Bucky glances at Steve and drops his eyes to Steve’s hands. Bucky brings his own and places his firm, sturdy palm onto both of the nervous limbs.

“Hey. We’re gonna be okay, Steve.” Bucky says in a low, quiet, and assuring tone. “You got this.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“And even if you don’t, that’s what you got me for.” Bucky lifts his hand to point to himself.

Steve curls his lips and nods. Bucky, satisfied with the result, returns his eyes to the large front windows of the bus. Bucky has always been good at calming Steve’s nerves, all the way back from when they were both teenagers. What’s changed? Nothing. Bucky would always have Steve’s back and Steve would always have Bucky’s back. 

Steve appreciatively pats Bucky on the leg as if thanking him for sticking by his side. Bucky smiles, his eyes still facing forward. Steve returns his gaze through the side window resting his calm, relaxed hands over his lap.

Steve and Bucky get off at the bus station in front of the C. Phillips firm. Steve pretends to be in shock and awe as the two of them walk through the rich, beautiful, and decorated entryway to the receptionist. The brunette greets them one by one, in a high-pitched voice, and asks what she can do for them. 

Bucky opens his mouth to say something Bucky-like to the young receptionist, whose heavily covered in cosmetics and sitting with perfect posture. Instead, he changes his mind at the last second and says, “James Barnes and Steve Rogers. We received a call earlier this morning about meeting with a Mr. Chester Phillips?”

The receptionist promptly guides them to the hallway, walking straight down to the last door in the corridor. Bucky’s eyes start from the carpet, to the wall, to the ceiling, to the other wall, and finally back to the carpet. He holds in a breath and turns around to see Steve’s face. Once again, Steve pretends to look around impressed as he mouths a, “I know!” to Bucky’s wide eyed face.

The receptionist knocks on the door and introduces the two men waiting to see him. She opens the door and guides them into the room. Once Steve and Bucky enter the room, the receptionist walks out and gently closes the door.

Steve and Bucky face the back of the massive swivel chair behind the expensive desk.

“Sit,” the low voice says.

Steve and Bucky walk up to the angled chairs and sits onto the leather cushions.

When Phillips finally decides to face the two, he greets each one and goes on about how he is impressed with each of their qualities, how their qualifications exceed his expectation, and how he would like to hire the both of them. The same exact pitch Phillips gave Steve the day before. 

A total reset. 

Phillips speaks to Steve as if this is their first encounter and as if the idea of Steve and Bucky as a team is his idea. Although Steve feels morally uncomfortable, he plays along with the charade because he didn’t tell the truth of their meeting to Bucky. A regrettable action he promises himself to straighten out.

However, this time around, Phillips is less conversational, less pervasive, and less philosophical. He is quick to the point and offers them the contract. Steve figures it’s because Phillips is already set on hiring them from the beginning, instead of initiating his interrogation to determine their admission.

Phillips hands a single contract to Steve. Steve reaches for the document and notices differences between this contract and to the one he received the day before. A new contract for a new policy, Steve thinks to himself. He glances down the never ending lines of letters to the two black lines labeled “signature”.

Steve reads the document carefully, nodding between the rules and regulations. After finishing the document, he hands the paper to Bucky. Bucky reads the document. Phillips folds his hands on his desk and taps his fingers against the back of his hand, waiting to address any objections to his newly constructed contract.

After Bucky drops his eyes to the signature line, he looks up at Phillips and back to Steve; then, nods. Bucky picks the pen from Phillips already reaching hand and signs his name. Bucky passes the document once again to Steve, where Steve signs his name onto the black line next to the scribbled signature.

Phillips lightly congratulates the young men for successively joining with the most prestigious law firm in the country. Steve and Bucky take turns firmly shaking Phillips’ hand. The two freshly hired attorneys arrive the following day for training and, by the next week, start handling cases on their own.

Ever since then, the dynamic duo progressed the firm to an extent Chester Phillips was surprised. Due to Steve and Bucky’s reduced service payment and heart of gold, the lower classes flooded the entry of the firm to check the next available date for Mr. Steve Rogers and Mr. James Barnes. Their representation was purely based on the client’s needs, not the size of their wallets. For that reason, the people loved them for their caring and emphatic hearts.

The city’s newspaper started printing headlines, “C. Phillips Firm Monopolizing Law Services. Friend or Foe?”, “Immigrant Wounded Fighting For C. Phillips Representation”, “Renovation Of Powerful Law Firm. Will The Wheels Ever Stop Turning?”, “C. Phillips Firm Ranked Number One For Service Throughout The Entire City. Where Next?”

Chester Phillips admitted, at first, he was displeased with the fact of catering to the low class, reducing payments and tarnishing the glorious status of the firm. However, in time, Phillips changed his viewpoint. The response of Steve and Bucky’s efforts won him headlines, publicity, and advertisement in a way that never happened before and attracted such a positive response. 

In fact, the response was overwhelming, so much so that Phillips demanded the other attorneys to represent the clients Steve and Bucky couldn’t fit into their already packed schedule. Unfortunately, most of the other attorneys, working under the C. Phillips firm, didn't appreciate the payment cuts and dealings with the ‘dirt’ of the city. However, an order was an order and there was no choice but to comply.

Animosity and resentment created friction in the office. However, Steve and Bucky ignored the malice and focused their energy and attention on helping their clients, burying their faces into files and solving the truth for the sake of truth.

Despite suffering through many sleepless nights and spending no time for himself, Steve Rogers was happy. He was happy to help the unrepresented, the poor, the unfortunate, just as he was when growing up. Bucky gladly and tirelessly supported Steve, just as he had all those times against the bullies of the city. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, a pair of invulnerable determination against the tyrannical injustice, revealing the manipulation of suffering and sorrow in the shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

Behind the translucent window of the mahogany door, two desks face one another on the opposite ends of the room. Loaded bookcases filled the entire back wall. Boxes, stacked up three units high, crowd various spots of the room, especially closer to the two desks. Folders and papers, crammed into the boxes, tear at the taped seams and spilling from the top. The trashcan, in the corner, overflows with crumbled paper and is surrounded by scattered missed shots.

Bucky, sitting at his desk, buries his face into the red file marked “Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan – CASE#: 1963-616”.

Steve, sitting at the desk opposite to Bucky, is leaning in the chair, both hands on his head, and legs propped up on the corner of his desk. Steve stares at the ceiling fan, spinning slowly in circles.

Bucky looks straight up from his file to find Steve staring at the ceiling, daydreamed. Bucky drops the file, leans back, and wonders where Steve has gone.

“Steeeeve.” Bucky waves his hand in the air. “Steeeeve.” Bucky repeats louder. “Steve!” Bucky shouts, throwing a ball of crumbled paper at Steve’s face.

Steve jumps in his seat, dropping his legs onto the floor, and quickly turns his head to Bucky.

“Wha-What?” Steve says, caught off guard. “Something wrong?”

Bucky picks up the pen on his desk and places the end close to his lips. “Nah, I was just curious where you went. It’s not every day I catch you drifting off. That’s my job.” Bucky leans onto his elbows. “So, what were you thinking about?”

“I was reminiscing.” Steve says, shifting his gaze from the wall to Bucky. “Do you remember how we got this job? How we got to where we’re at?”

Bucky cocks his head and smiles at Steve’s sudden trip down memory lane.

“I was just recalling our days as teenagers. Me picking the fights and you fighting the fights. Coney Island. Supporting off each other in that small, dinky apartment.” Steve pauses. “Now, that I think about it. That probably wasn’t considered as an apartment.” Bucky shakes his head agreeing and Steve continues, “The night before and that obnoxious telephone ring the following morning. Do you remember that?”

“Of course! I wanted to throw the damn thing out the window!” Bucky changes his voice into one of disbelief. “I still can’t believe I actually got up to answer the phone. Oh, and by the way, you owe me for crashing into that table. That hurt a hell of a lot.”

“You owe me.” Steve emphasizes each word as he points his finger from Bucky to himself. “I was the one who found that table next to the dumpster, ready to be thrown out.”

“But, who was the one that carried it all the way home?”

“Only because I was dragging the chairs right behind you.”

Steve and Bucky smile at the memories, polishing them from the dusty shelves of their minds. After the moment passes, Bucky says in a nostalgic tone, “Wow. I can’t believe you remembered all that.”

“Of course I do! Our childhood is the most treasured memory I have with you.” Steve says quickly, then adds, “There’s that and the time we spent here at the firm.”

“We’ve come a long way, didn’t we?”

“Do you remember how Chester Phillips threatened to kick us out because our clients constantly crowded the lobby?” Steve says incredulously. “‘Your people are tarnishing the experience of our real clients. Control them or else you’re out.’” Steve quotes mockingly.

“Yeah.” Bucky responds with Steve’s incredulous tone. “Until we started making the headlines.” Bucky pauses. “Why weren’t we ever mentioned in the paper? It was always Phillips this and Phillips that. We were the ones busting our backs here. We should at least get some of the credit.” Bucky points his finger at the desk, the tip touching the wood. “Chester Phillips is a rat. He’s a spineless cretin, obsessed with fame and gold and nothing to show for it.”

“You’re right.” Steve sighs. “But, my job is to help the people. And, if they’re happy with me, then I’m happy too.”

Bucky smiles at Steve’s simple, yet admirable, response. “Just like the little Steve I know.”

Bucky looks at the clock above the door and Steve follows afterward. Bucky stands up, pushing the chair behind him. “You ready to save Timothy Dugan from HYDRA Corp.?” Bucky picks up the red file and clamps it between his arm and chest.

“Timothy Dugan Vs. HYDRA.” Steve reads the title of the case file. “We got this.” Steve says confidently. “Let’s go save a man from injustice.” 

“Aye, Aye, Captain.” 

Bucky walks over to the coat hanger, next to the doorway, and grabs his jacket. He flips the jacket over one shoulder, two fingers grabbing the inside collar. Steve reaches behind his chair, swings his suit jacket over his shoulders, and tugs the notched lapels to straighten the jacket over his broad chest. 

Bucky opens the door and lets Steve exit the room first, the red file in hand. Bucky follows closely, gently closing the door to their hard-earned, well-deserved office.


End file.
